


It Won't Get Better Than This

by vvidder



Category: Promare (2019)
Genre: Burning Rescue Lio Fotia, Canon Compliant, Lio Fotia-centric, M/M, Minor Gueira/Meis (Promare), Picks Up Where the Movie Left Off, but also will dig into Galo's character a lot! and aina a little bit, galo thymos is the most tender himbo you will ever see, this fic has a more serious tone than the movie but will still have humor and light moments!, trigger warnings to be determined
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:55:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26328244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vvidder/pseuds/vvidder
Summary: Promepolis’ demise is as likely as its survival. The future of the city hangs in the balance as citizens strive to rebuild their city and struggle to trust the surviving Burnish. If the city had a leader, Promepolis might be able to find a path forward, but Kray Foresight and the Foresight Foundation is on trial for crimes against humanity.Galo, seen by many as the obvious choice for the city’s next governor, is hesitant to leave his station as a firefighter. In the aftermath of his fight with Kray Foresight, the city is a disaster — Burning Rescue needs him more than ever to get the city back in shape. Even with the help of the Burnish, there’s a quiet but widespread worry that Promepolis can’t be saved.The help of the Burnish might have its limits, too — the Burnish are beginning to fall ill left and right, made vulnerable to a new disease triggered by the Promare exodus. Lio, looked to by many for answers and help, begins to doubt his ability to survive in this new world.The Promare have returned to their original planet, but there is still work to be done. Sometimes it feels like the struggle has just begun.
Relationships: Lio Fotia/Galo Thymos
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	1. Chapter One

It was easy to be hopeful that day. It was  _ necessary _ to be hopeful, even; undoubtedly on the verge of a new world, facing the horizon with doubt wasn’t much of an option.

Downtown Promepolis was in ruins, and the fight between them and Krazor-X resulted in ripples of damage that spread through the whole city. Scaffoldings had collapsed and large metal beams were bent into harsh angles. And yet, from where Lio stood with Galo at the end of that day, there was something serene about how their fight against Kray had come to an end. Despite the clear signs of disaster, all the fallen buildings and piling debris seemed like the worst of it. It was impossible to recognize the depth of the damage done; the homes destroyed and the people killed didn’t register.

Lio could only focus on the little things, like birds settling on the bare skeletons of the buildings left behind and miraculously unscathed civilians helping one another to their feet. The little things, the good things.

Hope comforts people like that. It blinds people like that.

Of course, standing next to Galo was no help in recognizing the reality of the situation either. Galo’s a beacon of hope; then and now, his want for Promepolis to survive is so genuine, and his ambitions so intense, that for Galo, hope  _ is _ the reality.

On nights like tonight, Lio’s kept awake by wondering if reality can be willed. Sometimes, he thinks that yes, such a thing is possible, and he’s comforted because it means Galo can ensure Promepolis’ survival. 

Other nights, Lio cannot overlook the fact that Promepolis is literally fracturing and collapsing in on itself; there is only unity in its infrastructure and its people falling all at once, together. There is no surviving thing that is strong enough to hold it all together.

Just days ago, it was easy to only think about what it would take to make sure that the Burnish survive to see the next day. Lio had no ties to anyone else, he had no other family or care. Even with almost nothing — hardly any food, no home, and minimal comfort — Lio took for granted that things would never change. He took for granted that he could devote his life to his people, without compromise and without divided attention.

Lio lies on his side, taking comfort in a series of small facts. The Burnish are still his people, and they are still his priority. He’d die for them as quickly as he’d have died for them just a day ago, and they would do the same. Despite the way the world seemed to be tearing apart at the seams, the Burnish has been able to hold themselves together. In some ways, then, things are the same.

For a few minutes he makes quiet noises to get out of his head; he breathes heavily through his nostrils and shifts the sheets around with his feet. By virtue of squatting in the Burning Rescue firehouse, there are other noises he finds soon enough — he can hear hands slamming down onto the table in the next room over, the mechanical whir of a coffee machine, and an aggressive typing pattern.

It’s only been a few days, but Lio can accurately guess who’s behind each noise; Aina and Remi are in an intense game of cards, Galo is looking to stay up late for one dumb reason or another, and Lucia is developing tech for a situation that might never come.

Living out of Burning Rescue headquarters was not, and is not, Lio’s ideal situation. Most of the Burnish have made camp a block down in a couple of squat buildings that didn’t take heavy damage but their numbers were too large for everyone to fit comfortably — Lio refused his spot in camp to ensure another Burnish member could stay there, likely more comfortable among their own people than with Burning Rescue, who the Burnish had only recently started seeing eye-to-eye with.

Burning Rescue cleared out a small storage space for Lio. Varys apologized a few times to Lio about how unwelcoming it must feel to be given an ex-broom closet for a room, but Lio didn’t mind where he ended up. It hardly matters — most nights Lio visits the Burnish camp, making rounds to see how his people are faring. Tonight is one of the few nights that he left Meis and Gueira to conduct these rounds without him. His worry is rarely this crippling.

Lio stays in his room a while longer, hoping that he’ll fall asleep after enough tossing and turning, before coming to terms with tonight being another sleepless night despite his exhaustion. He yawns, frustrated with the fog in his head, and leaves his tiny room.

The reactions vary — everyone is still trying to assess how casual to treat the situation. Remi wordlessly looks at Lio over the rim of his glasses before returning to the card game and Aina casts Lio a sympathetic look. Lucia doesn’t notice, and Galo is nowhere to be seen.

“Can’t sleep?” Aina asks. Lio shakes his head, and checks the coffee pot to see if there’s much left. “I don’t think coffee will help.”

At best, Lio is skeptical of Aina since learning of the involvement of her sister, Heris, with human experimentation on the Burnish. He knows Aina is deserving of individual judgement, but he can’t spare her that without feeling that he’s betraying the Burnish. Nonetheless, he feels some compassion for her — Aina’s sister is to be put on trial for crimes against humanity with the rest of Foresight Foundation. The trials are yet to go public, so Aina at least has some remaining days of privacy.

“Where’s Galo?” Lio asks, declining the conversation. Eventually, he’ll allow himself to get to know Aina better — but not now.

“In his room. He was going to go looking for you, actually, but I told him that you were asleep.” There’s a moment of silence as Lio looks at her, waiting. “His room is up the staircase, to the left,” she says, pointing in the right direction, and Lio thanks her.

*** * * ***

Lio stands in front of Galo’s room, hand hovering before the door for several seconds before actually knocking. He’s not sure that nervous is the right way to describe how he’s feeling — not about speaking with Galo, at least.

Confusion is probably more accurate.

Galo doesn’t ask who it is; the identity of the knocker unnecessary, he just invites Lio in.

Though most of the lights in the room are off, Lio can discern a general impression of the space. For starters, Galo is a little more neat than he anticipated; other than some piles of laundry, either clean or dirty, in a corner, most of the room seems to be orderly. The bed is up against the far wall, with a desk next to it where Galo is seated with a single lamp turned on.

“You burnt the coffee,” Lio says.

“I did?” Galo asks, bringing the mug down from his lips to look at the drink as if he’ll be able to see scorch marks.

“Yeah. It’s the smell.”

Galo takes another sip, thoughtfully smacking his lips. “Damn...it tastes so good, though!”

“That’s because you’re practically drinking a mug of creamer,” Lio says, leaning over Galo’s shoulder to peer at the drink. “If you’re trying to stay up late, that’s hardly going to do anything.”

“You here to pick a bone with me or somethin’?” Galo asks, shifting in his chair, looking away from his desk and to Lio instead.

Lio doesn’t know what to say — he doesn’t really know  _ why _ he’s here, other than the fact that Galo’s the person he’s most comfortable with at the station. After some silence, where Lio tries and fails to think of what to respond with, he turns from Galo and sits at the foot of Galo’s bed. He draws his knees up to his chest.

“I couldn’t sleep,” Lio says. 

“Did you have coffee too late in the day?”

“What? No.”

“So what was keeping you awake? You look like you could use the rest.”

“I know,” Lio says flatly, in no mood to argue. “I just kept thinking about everything.”

“Makes sense,” Galo says. He gets out of his chair and sits next to Lio, close enough that they’re touching; Galo’s bicep bumps against Lio’s shoulder. “Me too.”

“Do you really believe Promepolis can be put back together? I don’t think it will get better than this.”

“ _ That’s  _ what you’re worried about?” Galo asks. He looks over to Lio and grins. “Sure it can.”

Lio’s desperate to laugh and let himself fall back into Galo’s optimism, but he can’t. “How are you so convinced? Don’t you get how hard it’ll be?”

“No one thinks it will be easy,” Galo says. “But then again, no one thought capturing you would be easy, either.”

“That was a calculated loss. We’ve been over this.”

“Yeah, yeah. Point is — I still got this need to put out fires, no matter how big or small! And this city’s got so many!”

“Beyond that, though. Beyond the fires, there’s so much work to be done.”

Galo gives a determined hum of agreement. “There’s physical fires and _ metaphorical _ fires for me to put out,” he says. “What a dream!”

Once again, Lio’s not sure what to say. Maybe there’s nothing to say, so he just nods and stays where he is, bringing his arms around his legs and resting his chip atop one of his knees. Is it worth stressing about what is probably inevitable? Is it even worth stressing about something that isn’t his priority? After all, the Burnish will survive — with or without Promepolis. The city’s a quality of life issue for them, at best. Lio would like to see them reintegrated into society, but he has his doubts about if the world will ever accept them. The Burnish can survive on their own for as long as they need to. They always have.

“You said you can’t stop thinking, either,” Lio says, in part to fill the silence and in part because he cares, just a little. “What about?”

“The trials,” Galo says easily — Lio finds it evident that Galo’s not shy about being vulnerable. Where Lio had skirted around the Burnish, the heart of all his concerns, Galo dove right into the matter. “Y’know, I didn’t have a lot of time to process what Kray had done. Has done. Sometimes I’m jealous that you’ve known him as a monster from the very start. I wonder how different things might be if I had always known the same things you did. It would have saved me a lot of pain.”

Lio shakes his head. “It’s not worth thinking about how things might have been.”

“Yeah,” Galo says in agreement, scratching the back of his head. “I guess thinking about alternative realities saves me a bit of grief, though, doesn’t it?”

“No,” Lio says, “it just delays grief.”

Galo is rendered silent. Lio doesn’t feel bad about what he’s said; in fact, he’s glad he’s got the chance now to help Galo talk through his issues with Kray. It’s clear Galo’s been avoiding the chance to confront the reality that Kray hated — hates — him. Galo’s almost been acting manic the past few days, his happiness strained by the inevitable fact that it would crumble soon enough. There are moments where Galo’s happiness is true, though; it’s Galo’s nature to get back up when he’s been hurt, even when staying down is in his best interests. There’s something both inspiring and stupid about Galo’s resiliency. Galo’s often blinded by his trust in goodness always prevailing.

“Kray never betrayed me, did he?” Galo asks, and Lio nods, bracing impact as Galo starts getting to the truth of things. “Betraying me means there was a point where his intentions were different.”

“Everyone is a pawn for him, and he doesn’t think of himself as a piece on the board — he’s the player. He knew what he wanted to do from the start. He had a plan, a strategy.”

Galo curses under his breath. None of this is news to him, Lio’s sure — it’s just the first time Galo’s letting everything sink in. Lio wants to keep digging in, but he knows Galo could turn self-destructive on the flip of a coin so he pulls back.

“But I’d say we got around to being the players on the other side of the board. We made him rethink everything, at the end — every step, every decision.”

“Galo de Lion was a good blow to his plans,” Galo says with a satisfied smile, bringing his arms around Lio’s shoulder to give him a squeeze. “I think we did pretty good.”

The confusion Lio felt prior to entering Galo’s room returns, as if his mind is determined to make sure Lio thinks about every possible concern tonight — he’s thought about the Burnish, about Promepolis, about Kray, about his relationship with Burning Rescue. Now it’s time to think about Galo, and him, and Galo and him as … something. Lio just doesn’t know what.

It was true that there was a time, not too long ago, that Lio couldn’t  _ stand _ Galo; he couldn’t stand the confidence and faith Galo had in all the wrong things. He seemed so far gone, so corrupted by Kray that it’d be impossible to convince him of the truth. It seemed like the earth was desperate to fail by the way Galo and Lio were trusted to fight alongside one another. Lio had his doubts about whether he and Galo had any chance of setting their differences aside to put up a respectable fight.

While helping Galo man the mech built by Prometh, there was no time for Lio to recognize how well he and Galo worked together. It was only by the time that the mech fell apart when Lio understood that he owed his life to Galo and the way they’d been able to synchronize. Then, as he lay dying, he did not expect Galo to bring him back. He did not expect Galo to think Lio could be saved, and it was far from his expectations for Galo to have truly digested what he’d seen Lio do to try to save another Burnish.

Lio was comfortable, when he was dying. He knew that Galo knew the truth of the Burnish. Dying, Lio let himself trust Galo not to fail the Burnish. It was a pleasant surprise to wake from the brink of death with Galo leaning over him, fingers still lingering on his chin. Nowadays, Lio is much more distressed by waking to the thought of Galo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! i'm excited to get going on this fic :-)
> 
> BTW - realistically, some of the things happening in this fic would take a more global scale, but for the sake of my little brain i'm just going to keep everything based within Promepolis. Also, as mentioned in the tags, I have no beta reader - if anything's confusing, let me know and I'd be happy to go back to add clarification!
> 
> have a good day! hopefully I'll update in the next day or two.


	2. Chapter 2

There’s a loud knock on the door of Lio’s room — the sound startles Lio awake; he jolts upright in bed, the sheets falling from his body to pool at his waist. It’s the first time he wakes up in the room and aware of where he is. The absence of his Burnish family nearby is still disorienting, but Lio wakes with no panic. He knows where they are, and he knows they are alive.

Lio knows it will be a long time until he wakes up to an easy day, but the relief to know his people are alive for another sunrise is enough for now. He closes his eyes and runs his hand through his hair, collecting just a few seconds for himself to be alone before he opens the door and begins a long day of work.

Of course, his seconds are truly just seconds; Galo knocks once more, pauses, and then swings the door wide open. Daylight pours in and Lio squints his eyes, shuffling in bed to fit into Galo’s broad shadow.

“Rise and shine!” Galo says. There’s a tremendous grin on his face and Lio wonders if he got even a wink of sleep.

“Burnt, again,” Lio critiques with a small smile, accepting the coffee that Galo holds out to him. It’s easy to tease Galo, so easy to get him started.

“Eh? Then why does no one else complain about it?”

“They’re all too polite,” Lio says loudly, standing up and coming almost chest-to-chest with Galo (if only he was just a little taller) as he squeezes past him, out of his room. He takes a shirt with him and pulls it on once he’s out of such a confined space, vaguely relieved to be out of such close proximity to Galo.

“Too polite?” Galo repeats, following Lio to the fire station’s kitchen. The timing is perfect; they walk into the room to see Aina pouring several mugs of coffee from a freshly made pot.

“They always make a new batch of coffee once you leave,” Lio says, sitting at the table and helping himself to fruit and some scrambled eggs. He watches, with a mixture of disgust and awe, as Galo stacks his plate high with all sorts of breakfast proteins — sausage, bacon, eggs — atop several buttered pieces of toast.

“What?” Galo says, shamelessly speaking around a mouthful of food and putting on a pout. He shouts a thank you to Varys and Aina, who are working over the stovetop together. “I’m eating my feelings.”

“Oh, you feel  _ that _ bad about making a bad pot of coffee?” Lio asks, rolling his eyes.

“Galo deals with everything in dramatics,” Remi says — cooly, but affectionately, Lio suspects — as he takes a seat, spreading cream cheese onto a bagel. “Though, I assume that’s something you’ve already caught onto.”

“I knew from day one, from the moment he fought me with a fucking  _ matoi _ .”

“You’re hardly one to talk,” Remi says, briefly looking at Lio and pushing up his glasses. “Your Mad Burnish armor was about as excessive as anything Galo’s ever done.”

“I guess I had something to prove,” Lio says with a shrug. “Or, at least, I thought I did. I was young when I was promoted to be the leader of Mad Burnish. I figured it’d be easier for me if I looked like a monster.”

“So are the rumors true, then?” Varys asks, slowly vocalizing his question, his words drawn out with caution as if Lio could still turn this place to flames.

“Rumors?” Lio asks.

Varys nods, taking a seat across from him and taking some food from the center of the table for himself. “There’s still a lot of confusion about who the Burnish are. Ever since your face was revealed to the public, and everyone saw how young you were, people wondered if your age was somehow frozen at the start of the Great World Blaze.”

Lio laughs, unsure of how else to react, always dumbfounded and let down by how dehumanized the Burnish had become in the public eye. The more he learns, the more he feels right to have assumed armor that made him look like more of a creature than a person — in the height of his rage with a connection to his promare, Lio felt less and less inclined to act as anything other than the monster the world deemed him.

“I only became their leader in the last year or two,” Lio says, shaking his head. “There were a few leaders before me; I directly succeeded a woman in her forties.”

Varys nods. “I see.” There’s a thoughtful lapse in conversation before he says more: “It will be a hard battle for the Burnish, to prove themselves human to much of the public. I’m sorry that it needs to be proved in the first place.”

“I hope the trials help,” Aina says, breaking her silence. Everyone looks to her, surprised that she’s bringing the trials up — Galo makes a surprised noise, choking on his food for a second. It’s an awkward, sudden shift of attention to her, and she holds her ground well. She looks right at Lio as she takes a seat at the table.

“My sister — she’s a good person. I think I believe that. But what she did and what the Foresight Foundation did … It was so evil. As much as I hope the trials bring to light the inhumanity of Kray’s experiments, I also hope they prove the Burnish’s humanity. That’s just as desirable an outcome.”

* * * *

Ignis and Lio load up crates of supplies to bring to the Burnish campsite. They mostly work in silence, other than a few expressions of thanks every once in a while. Lio feels least obligated to speak to Ignis; he feels least in need of having to prove himself as a non-threat. There’s also a feeling of not knowing what to say; Lio doesn’t know how to find a way into a conversation with a man as stoic as Ignis.

He knows there are obvious things he could say; he knows there are easy ways to start a dialogue. He could thank Ignis for supplying the Burnish with food and clothes but he’d never position his people as a charity case, and he’d never thank anyone for such a basic and minimal display of humanity. Ignis and the rest of Burning Rescue supporting the Burnish is something to be done without question and without hesitation. It is people helping people; there is less pride in Lio withholding gratitude, and more of an understanding that what is being done is the only right thing to be done.

“I heard you didn’t visit the Burnish last night,” Ignis says as he passes Lio a crate of clothing. “That doesn’t seem like you.”

“Meis and Gueira have it under control,” Lio says, stacking the crate. “I trust them.”

“Of course. After all you’ve been through, I didn’t think that was an issue. I’m glad you have them.”

Lio quietly takes the next crate handed to him, unsure of what Ignis is trying to get at.

“All I know of you is about how much you care for the Burnish,” Ignis says with a grunt, heaving up a particularly heavy crate of food and sliding it into the back of the truck for Lio. “I care a lot for my team. I’ve lost sleep over them. I assume you’ve done the same for your people, as recently as last night.”

Lio nods, hesitating before divulging more. “They’re always on my mind. Everything I think about, I think about because of them. There’s so much that needs to be done in order to assure their safety.” Ignis lifts up the last crate to Lio, who packs it up and leaps from the back of the truck to help Ignis seal the doors shut.

“Did you choose to lead them, Lio?” Ignis asks.

“There’s more nuance to it, but yes. I choose to.”

“Hm.” Ignis nods, stroking his moustache. “I have a theory that most voluntary leaders are one of two things — they are either courageous or greedy. I assume you are a courageous leader, Lio.”

“Thank you,” Lio says, awkwardly accepting the praise.

“But for such a good thing to have, doesn’t courage feel especially awful?” Ignis wonders. “To do the right thing, the pure thing, knowing that the likelihood of loss and failure is high? I think it feels awful.”

“It does,” Lio agrees. He hasn’t ever thought of this before, but Ignis is right.

“Your leadership for the Burnish demands you renounce yourself, your needs and wants, to serve them. I think there comes a point where your leadership and courage is not sustainable if you lose sight of yourself — and I think losing the Burnish will not come long after that.”

“All of this, just because I didn’t visit them last night?”

“I’d rather share the wrong wisdom than share none at all,” Ignis says. “But I guess it’s all just a hunch of mine.” Ignis leaves, calling for Galo as he walks back into the station and leaving Lio reeling.

Lio never thought much of himself once the Great World Blaze began. He wasn’t alone in losing clear sight of himself once he became part of the Burnish — he fragmented, torn apart by society into human and Burnish, things positioned so opposite one another that for some brief, horrible time, Lio was only Burnish.

Being a leader reintroduced the idea that, yes, he was still a human, a person; he saw all these Burnish people — mothers, childrens, artists, people who could laugh and love and mourn — and saw himself again as who he’d been before he burned. From then on he knew who he was, a human who was a Burnish, but what else? Is he still a Burnish, now that the Promare are gone? Who are his people? Who is he, if he is no longer a Burnish? Has Lio already lost himself? Has he already lost  _ them _ ?

He feels so cold.

“Ready to go?” Galo asks, revving up the truck’s engine. Lio blinks, yanked from his downward spiral.“You alright?” He reaches across the console to squeeze Lio’s hand.

“Do you feel like a Burnish?” Lio asks quietly. He keeps his eyes fixed ahead to the road beyond the garage, thinking he might burst into tears if he dares to glimpse at Galo.

“I — I don’t know,” Galo says. “Not quite. Why?”

“I don’t know,” Lio responds, squeezing Galo’s hand in return. “I just wonder if they still feel like Burnish, now that they’ve lost the thing that defined being Burnish.”

“Do you still feel like Burnish?” Galo asks, and Lio nods without a thought. “Maybe fire wasn’t the only thing that the Burnish had. Y’know, I’m an idiot, but you might be one too if you think fire was the only thing holding the Burnish together. You should talk with some of them today.”

Lio snorts.

“Start driving, then. Idiot.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! this chapter was kinda dialogue-heavy, and it took me a while to upload, sorry -- there's so much I want to set up for this story and dialogue seems the most efficient way for me to do most of that!
> 
> i also sprinkled just a little smidge of galio with the hand squeeze because I love them and want to get their relationship going sooner rather than later! it's coming. soon. I promise
> 
> kudos and comments appreciated! I hope you're having a good night/morning/afternoon. drink some water! check your posture!


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